Luyện nghe bài hát Ring The Alarm

Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye

Ring the alarm, I don't wanna stay calm
I'm about to rip Psalm
When the mic is gripped my lyrics do up like
Bombs from

I'm sweet, neat, I don't romp or skinteet
Lyrics I lick my tongue
And rhymes I with my teeth
This lyrical prophet you stop this from the West Indies

You can tell I'm a lyrical prophet the words spoken and broken up
In these books and scrolls I unfold
The knowledge I use does make me
The intelligence in my

Converts and becomes wisdom
Born in Trinidad, not Tobogo, land of pan and Calypso
is a buck and a buck is a cyop
That's the real true and a natural fact

This man you can't hold me back
the red, the white, and also the black
Island, is my land, my place of birth
You can by the tongue that's swung

And the lyrical structure in me
So all don't cross this border
by now you should know sort of
Lyrically wise but now I

All youth out of order
Don't try to any of the Schnickens
'Cause I'm not done with the lyrical
The beatin' and the

the alarm, another sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye

You two-facety, you can't me
And my you'll bite and learn
Soon you'll acknowledge my lyrical substance like a bookworm
Chip FU, then you will extend and all the youth them

That me big 'boutcha under and culture
And the bad in the pen
when I grip the mic
(Yes, man)
All MC's do stop yes and hush

Any mic I touch, any mic I brush, any mic I
these lyrical styles of such
And if I do unleash a masterpiece
Lyrics never cease, then a piece unleash and make it brief

don't bite yes or thief
C H I P FU is my name, it will stay the same
Give me any mic on stage in a rage I'll
And drop just the same

Quote for quote, for note, did you comprehend
So it up and pull it up operator
Wheel and come
'Cause MC's try these Rastafarianic raps and like wanna-be's

But a not what I want to be
See the FU-Schnickens to be
The true free
Free to FU-Schnick prophecies

We thee untouchable, matchable, stoppable MC's for
Me, a Rastafarian, no not me but I do
I'm not faking Jamaican, so all MC's you run
Because Mr. Chip FU man a

And me pon de riddim sitdong pion de vibes
A de don
True me full up a and me wicked and wild
With peer pattern how me chat it in a verb

And it in a noun
Uno better give I and I
When this I come
out

Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye

Phenomenon one, phenomenon two, three
Come me
POC FU's the chicken and I'm the wild Apache
See I'm the C the H the I the P

with the P the O the C, the K the U the N the G
The M the O, yes and the C
And when the M the I the C is in my H the
I preach and teach and educate all ghetto youth about

But wait, let me get set not to
But to get straight
All MC's come out good styles
And all of do sound great

But the alarm and don't stay calm
Because I won't
lyrical styles that I compile
To preach and teach and me, a new jack brother
(Who's that)

When you were at the parties rapping and scratching I did a
On tape, on tape and cassette, hear me live and direct
Yes and who never hear me yet when you hear my voice it's
So just pack up because your lyrics are when you speak

step so just back up, wake up, take off the make-up
The mic because break up
MC's from limb, slim me trim
You see me, I don't follow no style and I don't no pattern

So take to this lesson I bring or the lesson I brought
Which was to one and another
All slack MC's better the alarm
In words, run for cover